


Dreams that are Lost and Won

by vintageAerith



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Romance, in which Zidane is out of his element for the first time in his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintageAerith/pseuds/vintageAerith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zidane has something to say, even when Garnet cannot say anything back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams that are Lost and Won

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _Sunlight failed, but only for a while_   
>  _In the moonlight pale, someone made me smile_
> 
>  
> 
> _The shining almost took me but I made it through that night_  
>  _And in the morning life it graced me and I ran for miles_
> 
>  
> 
> _(Sunlight) In a billion dreams that are lost and won_  
>  _(Moonlight) In spite of all you've seen, there's only one way out_
> 
>  
> 
> _Say you will love me until I leave the world_  
>  _In a billion dreams that are lost and won_
> 
>  
> 
> _Say you will love me until I leave the world_  
>  _In spite of all you've seen there's only one way out._
> 
>  
> 
> **= ANATHEMA - Sunlight =**  
> 

“Hey, Dagger.”

 

She can tell he’s trying his best not to startle her. There’s a pang of resentment somewhere deep in her chest, a part of her that wishes her soul weren’t so frail that her body was failing her, too. She doesn’t want to be treated like she’s made of glass, but she’s thusfar managed to do very little to prove she isn’t. She grimaces at herself.

 

Zidane had made a show of leaving with the others, but after she heard the soft _click_ of the door closing, she’d heard the creak of his characteristic full-body _flop_ onto his bed, on the level below hers and Eiko’s in the sun-drenched guest room in Cid’s castle. He hadn’t moved for a while after that.

 

He was hovering near the top of the staircase, and she looked over her shoulder to let him know she’d heard him, blinking at his silhouette against the bright windows.

 

She hasn’t moved since the four of them had been gathered around her, Zidane kneeling in front of her to look her full in the face, as if he was searching it for signs that this was all just some sick joke. That she was about to crack a grin at him and wave it off. _I’m fine. I just needed some time, that’s all._ Her hands were gently cupped over her knees, etiquette lessons fully second-nature, and Zidane was leaning on his knee with one arm, his fist clenching like he was physically trying to hold back from taking her hands in his. She’d fixed her gaze on them, temporarily forgetting the words flying above her head; a small part of her had really wanted him to.

 

This time, he doesn’t circle around to the other side of the bed. She feels the mattress cave in a bit as he sits with his back to hers, facing the windows, and she slouches forward a little. It would be so nice to lean back against him, like a wall against the world, but she couldn’t trust herself not to finally lose composure if she did. So she stays pertly upright, resting her chin on her own shoulder to watch him out of the corners of her eyes.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts. “It’s so unfair. An entire kingdom falls into your hands, and a second later, it’s got more problems than it’s had in the last hundred years combined.”

 

He’s trying to reconcile what happened. She pulls her knees to her chest. Zidane’s world was so simple; the most he had to worry about on any given day was a handful of friends making it back to their playhouse in one piece. Anything more, he could choose to wave off. But she…she’d grown up knowing that one day, a responsibility bigger than anything that should be heaped on one person would rest entirely on her. It didn’t matter if it was unfair. It was, really, the only thing she was expected to do and do right. Problems and all.

 

“What I’m trying to say is…I get it,” he went on. “I guess I just…I wanted you to know how proud of you I am. I don’t know if anyone’s remembered to tell you that. But they _should_.”

 

Their backs are touching now, and they’re holding each other up. She doesn’t know if he felt the way she stiffened at his words. Her eyes suddenly feel very hot.

 

“After all that…you losing your voice? Dagger, I don’t know what kind of stuff you’re made of, but if that’s the absolute worst thing that’s come out of this, I’m pretty damn sure you’re made of solid diamond.”

 

She’s staring very determinedly at the floor now, eyes burning as she hugs her knees to herself. The others pitied her. Zidane needed her to know it was _okay_ she was this weak, instead of acting as if he was unsurprised. How…

 

“And there’s something…agh,” he reaches behind his head to scritch at his hair, the way he does when he’s nervous. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

 

He’s silent for a few too many seconds, and she decides she’s had enough of this faceless exchange. Curiosity gets the better of her burning eyes and she unfolds her knees, making him start as she wriggles herself somewhat ungracefully across the bed to sit beside him instead.

 

Zidane looks pointedly away from her, but she keeps her gaze steady, waiting for him to gather his words again.

 

“I wanted to tell you now, because…well, to be honest, I don’t want you to have to say anything at all if you don’t want to.”

 

Silence.

 

“I’m…in love with you?”

 

He suddenly looks horrified with himself. Like he didn’t know why he phrased it more like a question, like he hadn’t done it any one of a million other ways—

 

“Ugh, I just…it didn’t seem right to keep it from you. And it’s not like you even have to do anything with it, I just…needed you to know. It was probably stupid of me to begin with, and like I said, the reason I’m saying it now is I know how awkward it can be if one person doesn’t feel the same way and—“

 

He was going to keep babbling forever if she didn’t do something.

 

It’s not graceful, and she mis-aims more to the corner of his lips; it’s more of a dam to the river of words coming out of his mouth than it is an actual kiss. A small _tic_ on the air as she pulls away.

 

Zidane is thunderstruck. She sees more in the way his face slackens now, than she’s ever seen when he’s rattling off a tried-and-failed line. It occurs to her that it might be the first time something he’s said has actually _worked_. She’s smiling, and a breath tries its mightiest to become a laugh, but falls short somewhere on its way.

 

His eyes have drifted somewhere else, unfocused, and the silence is oddly comfortable as it settles around them.

 

“I…” he starts. He combs a hand back into his hair, and it comes to rest on the back of his neck. “…say no more, I guess.” She gives him a _look_ , and he gives her a wry smile. She is unable to resist leaning in again. It’s longer this time, and his hand drifts from his own hair and his fingers skim along her cheek to tuck her hair behind her ear. She can feel the tension in that hand, like he wants to cradle the back of her head or cup her face. She wishes he would.

 

Garnet wonders idly how she’s going to keep from doing this every chance she gets. Each tiny puff of breath, each shift so Zidane can press his lips more comfortably against hers—

 

She’s always been told love comes like lightning, but Garnet thinks it’s more like water. Constant, lapping over toes; an hour later her ankles, and by the time she feels the chill of the water at the tips of her fingers, it already feels like home. The tide might not be quite there yet, but she knows Zidane will wait until she catches up. That he’s the only one who would, for her.


End file.
